How wet the sand can get, there's a ***** wind
sitting inbetween the smiles of innocent looking people
their words catch the fancy of the grand old folk
and egos become grander.

Betty calls not far from a station and hails a private one
to take her away for a little bit
and even if red storms beat urgent
she decides to take to court one.

The bed becomes a friendless place
and in the study, welcome the branches
out of necessity, comes newer ways
of lonely angles and paper sleeves.